A/N: Honestly writing Emily's mother is a struggle because I 100% believe that she has the best of intentions at heart, and only comes off as so judgmental because she lives in a world where appearances are everything. Still, I know that if I were in Emily's position, I would be constantly hurt by her mother's sort of strict nature (which may come a lot from my speculation; I don't know how strongly this interpretation fits with her depiction on the show). Anyway, thank you all for reading & many many thanks to elphiemolizbethbau for always reviewing, it's so sweet of you to take the time to do that! xo

/

Dinner, as Emily had expected and JJ had feared, was excruciating. Ambassador Prentiss opened the front door herself (a shock to Emily, who was used to housekeepers taking care of such menial tasks as greeting her) as Emily and JJ approached. Instinctively, Emily dropped JJ's hand, effectively abandoning the sole source of comfort she had in the moment. Feeling utterly alone despite the companion at her side and terribly small in the face of her mother, the Great and Terrible Elizabeth Prentiss, she stepped up onto the porch and held her breath.

"Emily! How nice of you to come."

Emily, visibly confused, could manage nothing but, "Um. I did say that I was coming?"

"Well, yes, dear, it's just nice to see you. Ah, the other guests should be arriving soon, why don't you- oh," here she seemed to notice JJ, who had been hiding slightly behind Emily. Through a broad smile that didn't reach her eyes, Ambassador Prentiss added, "Emily, you didn't tell me that you were bringing a guest."

"I'm sorry, there's just always so much extra space and food at these gatherings, I didn't think it would matter."

"Of course it doesn't matter! Any friend of Emily's is a welcome guest here," said the mother, speaking over Emily's shoulder to JJ. "Emily, won't you introduce us?"

"Yes! Yes, right. Mother, this is Jennifer Jareau, communications liaison with the Behavioral Analysis Unit. JJ, this is my mother, Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss."

"It's so nice to meet you, Ambassador," JJ said, managing to keep her voice steady. She reached out and shook the Ambassador's hand.

"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Jareau." With that, Elizabeth Prentiss disappeared into the house, presumably for some further preparation, leaving her daughter and guest to their own devices. The pair stood quietly on the porch for a few minutes, both taking in the events thus far and preparing themselves for what might come next, until Emily offered JJ a tour of the house. JJ accepted the invitation gratefully, and so off they went on their small adventure.

Living room, family room (which, to JJ's surprise, were two different things, though they appeared to serve the same purpose), office, library, restrooms, kitchen, dining room. Then up the stairs- master bedroom, three guest rooms (which also seemed unnecessary to JJ, who came from a two-bedroom house), and, the pièce de résistance, Emily's former bedroom. The dark haired woman pushed the door open with a heavy sigh and led her companion inside.

It was entirely impersonal. The walls were a neutral off-white and unadorned with photographs or decorations of any kind, the bedspread was a neutral floral, the desk was empty. Even to Emily, the room looked hollow, almost dead. "To be fair, I don't live here anymore," came Emily's attempt to defend the room. Of course that made logical sense, but JJ's bedroom was still filled with old notebooks, photographs from her childhood, medals from various athletic tournaments… it was a tribute to her youth, whereas Emily's former bedroom served only as a reminder that the past was nothing but the past.

Emily fell back onto her bed, staring up at the ceiling. "It's probably not too late for you to back out," she offered. "I'm stuck here, but you can say you're sick, or you have some kind of family emergency. You can still get out of this. If you want. I wouldn't be upset."

JJ fell onto the bed as well, and turned her head to face Emily. "I am not leaving you, Em."

Perfectly aligned with JJ's quiet "Em" came the harsh voice of Ambassador Prentiss. "Emily! Would you come downstairs for a moment? I need to speak with you."

JJ locked eyes with Emily, inquisitive, unsure if she should follow. "No, Jen, it's okay. You wait here, I'll take care of this." So JJ remained on the bed as Emily ventured downstairs to her possible doom, and the blonde tried to occupy her mind with anything other than curiosities as to what sort of thing Ambassador Prentiss needed to speak about so urgently. She was doing quite well until she heard voices raised slightly- only loud enough to hear an angry "Emily!" and an exasperated "Mother…" not quite loud enough to hear the rest of the conversation. Desperate to help Emily, she tiptoed down the stairs, but stopped when she heard her name.

"So this Jennifer, she's-"

"A coworker, Mother, and a good friend."

"Hm. And I suppose you haven't any friends more… suitable for such an occasion?"

JJ couldn't see the scene unfolding, and that was rather fortunate for her: she surely would have begun crying to see the dejected, miserable look on Emily's face. How, wondered JJ, could a woman so headstrong, so brave, completely fold in the face of her mother? She supposed that took great power on Ambassador Prentiss' part.

"You mean men? I have male friends. But that isn't relevant, because Jennifer isn't here as my date. She is here as a guest."

"Emily…" and here the mother's tone changed completely, from frustration to a sad sort of exasperation. "Emily, I have only ever wanted what was best for you. I only want to protect you..."

Emily sighed heavily. She knew that. A part of growing up, she found, meant realizing that the world did not necessarily exist exactly as she saw it, and that was sort of the problem: she knew that her mother was trying to help, and that made it so hard to hate her for it. But while sympathizing with her mother's point of view kept Emily from hating her mother, it did nothing to stop the anger and the hatred in general from building with every comment that came from her mother. She thus was left with an abundance of loathing and nowhere to turn it but onto herself.

Of course, Emily would never admit to any of that out loud. As had been her default defense mechanism since early adolescence, it was far easier to play the role of the angsty daughter. She gave her mother the best "I know" she could manage while sounding unaffected but not like a totally horrible person, gave her mother a small smile, and remained quiet.

"Alright, Emily. Go fetch your guest; everybody else is arriving."

When JJ heard Emily retreating towards the stairs, she scrambled to silently return to the room and pretend that she hadn't been eavesdropping. It's difficult to hide such things from FBI agents. Emily allowed JJ to return to the bedroom undisturbed, but upon entering the room behind her, sighed and said, "I'm sorry you had to hear that."

JJ froze, her back to Emily. "Hear what?" said she, still pretending that she had done as she was told and stayed put.

"Okay. You didn't hear anything," said Emily, clearly not buying into the blatant lie but unwilling to press JJ about it. "Um, we're expected downstairs now."

Thus ended the most painful part of the dinner. The rest was easier, but not by terribly much; both JJ and Emily could feel the good Ambassador's scrutinizing stare whenever one said a word to the other. Emily had to adjust her sleeves every few minutes, terrified that they might slip; her mother surely must have noticed this. As always, Emily attempted to stay quiet whenever it could be polite to do so; she answered any questions that the guests had about her career, and avoided any about her personal life. Every now and again, JJ's elbow would hit Emily's, or Emily's passing glances at JJ would be extended by a second or six. Both pretended they didn't notice.

The dinner dragged on, and the women at last retreated to JJ's car at about nine at night. Emily sat in the passenger seat once more, her knees pulled up against her chest; JJ could see in her peripheral vision that Emily was scratching her wrists, as she had done earlier. She sensed that calling the woman out on it would only further upset her, so JJ kept the observation to herself. She did, however, venture to say, "Em… would you be okay staying at my place tonight?"

"J-Jay, I can take care of myself. I'm fine."

"I know you can. I know. But I'm, um, a little overwhelmed, you know? I sort of… need you. And you know how easily I worry, so… even though I trust you, I really do, I would just sleep a lot better if you were with me. Is that- is that okay?" JJ had said a thousand times that she hated profilers, but Emily was absolutely right: she may as well have been one. She knew Emily wouldn't stay with her if she felt like a burden; she knew Emily needed to feel needed. She catered to what Emily wanted to hear. Was that wrong? She felt a bit guilty, a bit manipulative, but JJ knew that Emily was extremely distressed, and she didn't know just of how much self-destruction she was capable. She didn't want to find out.

Emily stayed silent for a few long moments, and then a soft "okay."